


Ghost Train to Iacon

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ tfspeedwriting Halloween prompt: Take an urban legend and write a tf version</p><p>The Prime is dead. Long live the Prime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost Train to Iacon

**Author's Note:**

> This caught my eye: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghost_train_(folklore)  
> Both the first: Silverpilen on the Stockholm metro and the third: phantom funeral train in Washington.

“Woah!” A slender mech said as he slipped through the last barrier, his companions following, a taller bulkier mech and a stocky femme.

“They are so going to regret not coming to see this.” The other mech referred of course, to the rest of their friends who had backed out with a variety of excuses.

“It looks like a scene out of the old holos.” The femme said as she trailed a hand through grime coating the nearest wall, stepping over scraps of metal and ceramic debris.

Their optics darted from place to place, taking in the abandoned station, rust slowly eating away at the jagged edges of walls. Eerie and slightly macabre, what with the shadows cast by the single flickering emergency light. “This place hasn't been used since the end of the Great War when they built the new line.”

“Did you hear that?” The slender mech stared into the black mouth of the tunnel.

“Probably glitchmice.” The femme said dismissively, “I'm going to check out what's through here.” She suited actions to words, heading through a half open door, the other mech following.

The first mech turned to follow. A flicker of light catching his optics, he paused.

That same noise, louder.

A faint shimmer.

Ethereal, silver bright.

Growing, becoming, light given form.

“Hey. You just been staring at the wall all this time? We found the old waiting room.” He jumped, sure they had just left, his chrono had barely ticked over.

“I.” He shook his helm, the ghostly image still seared into his memory cortex. “I was just thinking. I'm coming now.”

The femme grinned, latching onto his arm, ignoring how her companion cast a last lingering look at the unlit tunnel.


End file.
